I’ve been told I was a favorite perhaps by teachers and family members. I’ve also been told quite the opposite. But let me tell you. When someone tells me I’m their favorite, as gracious as it sounds, there is always a bit of guilt attached. In the bigger picture, each person has something distinctive to contribute and why should my contributions be any better? You are suddenly bound to these high expectations that you never knew you were being judged against. And even if the person(s) you are being compared to are your worst enemy, you can’t help but feel a little let down by the fact that the person choosing favorites, who is supposed to be a responsible adult, is making this judgement call.

Favoritism in families seems to be a common phenomenon (isn’t that an oxymoron?) and many times based on birth order. I can see it blatantly in my husband’s family. But there are always other factors that make me wonder about where it’s originating from. Such as, which chicken/egg came first, the kid’s bad attitude or the difference in treatment between siblings? I have no idea. I see this also within friends’ families. One sibling, 10 years junior, gets coddled to pieces while the other had been left, earlier in time, to fend for herself. Although the junior sibling receives plenty of perks, I think the older sibling deserves heeps of credit for finding her way on her own.

Even though I would’ve loved for someone to have paid my way through college, I have a deeper respect for myself, and I hope others have for me as well, for having paved my own way. I believe I have refined qualities of self-reliance and resourcefulness because of it. I don’t owe anyone but myself for that, of which I am eternally grateful.